


Wear Your Heart On My Sleeve

by Jesse_Rae



Series: Fashion AU [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Dirty Thoughts, Eventual Romance, Fashion & Couture, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Humor, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Mutual Pining, Set one year earlier, Skater!Viktor, alternative universe, chubby!yuuri, designer!yuuri, mature themes, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-18 07:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10612209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jesse_Rae/pseuds/Jesse_Rae
Summary: Yuuri couldn’t quite understand what was happening. Just yesterday he was thinking about retiring altogether. Now one Gala party later and he had somehow agreed to design the costume for the legendary Four Time World Champion Viktor Nikiforov. He could do this.After all, it was only one outfit, right?Or: Fashion!AU where Viktor is a famous skater and asks Yuuri to design his costume.





	1. Avant Garde

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Thank you for clicking on my new fic! I've been thinking about this for a while so I hope you all enjoy! Basically Yuuri is a designer and Viktor is a skater. 
> 
> Also, this is not beta read so if you would like to be my beta for this story, I would be eternally grateful!
> 
> Please follow my tumblr [@jesse-rae-on-ice](http://jesse-rae-on-ice.tumblr.com) or the [#wyhoms](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/wyhoms) tag for more updates!
> 
> Please enjoy!

Avant garde (adj): are people or works that are experimental, radical, or unorthodox, with respect to art, culture, and society.

* * *

Yuuri hated parties.

Okay, that wasn't exactly true.  Yuuri enjoyed his fair share of parties. He would be remiss to say he didn't enjoy casual birthday parties or holiday parties. And, truth be told, he even had fun at a frat party in his college years. Maybe a bit too much fun judging by the photos. He had apparently stripped down to his boxers and tried to pole dance. He was lucky that those photos never went public.

Actually, Yuuri didn't particularly hate parties; Yuuri simply hated Gala parties. Gala formals were just that: formal. Everyone was dressed in black suits or long dresses, all of which looked extremely uncomfortable in Yuuri's opinion. Sure, it was glitzy and glamorous with endless champagne and mini hors d'oeuvre, but it wasn't the scene Yuuri wanted to spend his Saturday evening attending, even if there was free alcohol.

It certainly didn't help that Yuuri was merely a guest for his friend. He had designed his costume for his friend's free program for the current skating season which was more of a favour than anyone would like to admit. And, as reward, he was dragged to the end of the year gala to network with other skaters. His friend had supposedly brought him along as an opportunity to connect with other potential customers (definitely not to meet all of the eligible bachelors). He insisted that inviting him to the end of the year gala was the least he could do for designing his costume. After all, it was supposed to be a fantastic way to meet potential clients.

Many people - not just designers - would have jumped on the opportunity to attend such a gathering. Instead, he found himself downing his second glass of champagne.

He couldn't really complain; he should be grateful he was even considered. And yet, he found himself sulking in the corner scanning the crowd to determine when was the perfect time to make his getaway. After all, he was only a plus one that had no right being at a formal gathering for ice skaters. Nevertheless, Yuuri was not going to turn an opportunity like this down, even if it was a formal gala. So he donned his nicest suit and attended. But that didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

Most people ignored him anyways, seeing as he wasn't nearly that important. He wasn't exactly standing out in any way to begin with. He wore a basic black suit with a rather outdated blue striped tie. Underneath was a white button-up that Yuuri didn't want to admit was tighter around the middle than he remembered. For a fashion designer, it was rather plain, but it was all he had.

Besides, no one would notice his poor outfit choices. Everyone would much rather congratulate the competitors than acknowledge Yuuri at all.

Yuuri’s eyes scanned the crowd. It was a decent crowd of influential attendees seeing as it was the largest party for professional ice skaters after all - save for the Olympics. The top skaters from every country mingled together, all trying to appeal to the large amount of sponsors who attended the event. Yuuri could easily build a network for himself with the amount of famous people who had attended. However, he found himself admiring the crowd from afar.

Okay maybe not the crowd, at all. Truth be told, Yuuri’s eyes were focused on one skater and one skater only.

Viktor Nikiforov.

He was standing in the center a rather large group of sponsors and skaters, all trying to get a glimpse of figure skating' stop athlete. He was saying slightly, trying to find an uncomfortable way to balance his weight. He appeared bored in Yuuri's opinion, not to say that anyone could really have fun at a Gala.

"So, are you enjoying your view?" his friend asked, noticing that Yuuri hadn't even acknowledged his presence at all.

His friend, and competitive ice skater Phichit Chulanont was slinging his arm around him. He was wearing the navy blue suit he had bought with Yuuri in University. Yuuri admitted that it made him appear older, more mature than he remembered his old roommate. He supposed he was trying to gain sponsors’ attention after all. Which begged the question why he was spending anytime with Yuuri anyways. Even though he had missed the podium, he surely had better things to do than entertain Yuuri all night.

"I've been looking for you all night but you're a hard person to find," he said. The smell of champagne was heavy on his breath and he wondered how much he drank before coming over to Yuuri.

"Sorry," Yuuri apologized, although he was unsure why. He had no reason to apologize for his actions. After all, this party wasn't made for him. If he wanted to stand in the back and admire Viktor Nikiforov then so be it.

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault you don't know anyone," Phichit admitted.

"Really, it's okay," Yuuri assured him, despite that it was certainly not okay. He didn't particularly want to be dragged to some uptight party, not that anyone really did. He would have been content spending his evening back at his studio drawing or playing video games.

Sure, this gala would be a great opportunity, plus he had the off chance he might make eye contact with Viktor Nikiforov, but it wasn't exactly Yuuri's scene.

"I'm enjoying myself," he argued. He took a large sip of his champagne for emphasis. He tried not to wince as the bubbly liquid burned his throat but it was worth it to prove a point. Besides, he couldn't have Phichit dote on him while he was supposed to mingle with fellow competitors. No, he couldn't do that to Phichit.

He raised an eyebrow, skeptical of Yuuri's statement. "Alone? In the corner?" Phichit asked.  

"Yes," Yuuri said defiantly. He wanted nothing more than to leave already. Two hours standing on his feet, practically ignored, was about all he could handle for the night. He doubted anyone would miss him (aside from Phichit) if he returned to his hotel room.

"How about I introduce you to someone?"  

Yuuri sighed. He knew what Phichit really meant by that. He wanted to set Yuuri up with one of his skating friends. After Yuuri’s many failed past relationships, Phichit wanted to redeem himself. And what better than setting him up with someone famous?

"Do I have to?" he asked. He knew it sounded ungrateful, but he didn't exactly want to meet anyone. Sure, it would be great to build some network with other skaters - money, was money after all - but Yuuri was not in the mood to mingle in such a situation.

"Come on. Get some connections and stuff! That's why I brought you."

"I don't know," he mumbled into his glass of champagne. He was perfectly content standings awkwardly in the corner, watching the party unfold before him. He certainly didn't need to be paraded around like an animal. No, he would continue to lean against the wall, enjoying his free glass of expensive champagne as he silently wished he could sneak out with as little fanfare as possible.

"Just one person?" he begged. He pursed out his bottom lip, trying to make his face irresistible. Yuuri would be lying if he said Phichit's pout didn't sway him, even a little bit.

"Fine, but you owe me," Yuuri said. He tipped back the rest of the champagne, finishing off the alcoholic drink. He knew he would regret it the next morning, but he needed the courage right now.

"That's the spirit!" Phichit said, leading him into the crowd.

Yuuri wondered which of the skaters Phichit would introduce him to. His mind went through the list of top ranking make skaters. There was Cao Bin from China and Otabek Altin from Kazakstan. This was their senior debuts but Yuuri didn't even see him at the Gala tonight so he removed them from his list of options.  

He had thought that Phichit would surely introduce him to Jean-Jaques Leroy, or JJ as his fans called him. He knew JJ and Phichit were good friends since their Junior season together. Not to mention that he was a fellow designer after all which made him a potentially good connection. However, Yuuri had seen him leave earlier with his girlfriend and was probably a bit busy at the moment, to say the least. He was silently thankful that he didn't have to meet him.

He supposed that narrowed it down to the top two skaters. One of those being Christophe Giacometti, the current silver medalist. He was a rather bold skater, choosing to skate to rather sexual routines. Yuuri silently hoped Phichit wouldn't introduce them so he wouldn't be asked to design something so erotic.

That only left one other skater.

"Hi Viktor!" Phichit exclaimed, walking up to Viktor. "Have you met Katsuki Yuuri? He was the one who designed my free skate outfit!"

Yuuri bowed politely, his cheeks turning red. He couldn't believe Phichit had the gall to walk up to the current World Champion and introduce his designer friend at a party like this. If Yuuri wasn't slightly drunk, he would have probably ran away.

"Pleasure to meet you," he managed to squeak out.

"Mm, Cat-ski is it?" Viktor asked, trying not to sound out his his name.

Yuuri could listen to him say his name - albeit incorrectly - for days on end. His voice was smooth, smoother than it was on the television, and far more charming. His words were peppered by his Russian accent that Yuuri usually found unattractive, but was rather arousing when coming out of Viktor's mouth. Yuuri could admire him all day.

Not to mention how drop dead gorgeous he was in real life. He had seen him on television (and on large spreads of magazine photoshoots) but it didn't seem to capture the natural beauty that was Viktor Nikiforov. His figure was that of a model's (and Yuuri knew he would certainly make a wonderful model) with all of the right curves and right angles. He wondered why he didn't see him in more fashion spreads. He was basically a angel amongst men.

Viktor was tall, especially for a typical figure skater. He was a few centimetres taller than Yuuri which was enough to make him tilt his head slightly upwards if he wanted a better look at his face. Yuuri decided that looking at his face, in person, that it must have been chiseled by Adonis himself. His jawline and hooked nose was prominent, accentuated by the way his platinum hair framed his face. His hair was combed to cover his left eye, which Yuuri found to be a shame considering how naturally beautiful his eyes were. He didn't seem to be wearing any makeup, aside from a bit of gloss on his lips. He wasn't like one of the other Russian skaters that caked himself in layers of eye shadow. Although, Yuuri was sure he would looked beautiful regardless.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Viktor continued. He held out his hand for Yuuri to shake.

"Just Yuuri," he choked out.

He took Viktor's hand, noting how sweaty and clammy his hand must feel. His heart was racing at the smallest of touches, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Yuuri pulled his hand away before Viktor could notice.

"And you are?" Yuuri asked instinctively, still a bit starstruck that he was meeting his longtime celebrity idol.

Viktor blinked, obviously not used to someone not recognizing him. "I'm Viktor Nikiforov. Four Time World Champion." He held up his medal for confirmation and flashed Yuuri his signature smile.

Yuuri inwardly cringed. "Ah, yes. I know who you are. I'm sorry."

"Mm so you said you designed Phichit's outfit this season," Viktor said, quick to move off the topic. To that, Yuuri was thankful.

"Quite a look," Phichit confirmed.

Yuuri shrugged. It wasn't anything special, if he were being honest. A simple red body suit with gold trim lacing to make him look like a prince. It was rather boring for a skating costume but he supposed all male outfits were rather boring. Just tuxedos or full body suits; nothing like the elegant designs females wore in comparison.

"You can say that again," he mumbled. He wasn't particularly proud of his latest creation. To be honest, he had only created it after Phichit begged, claiming that Yuuri owed him a favour. He wanted an outfit modeled after his favourite character from his favourite movie and apparently no other designer could make it just right.

"I thought it was wonderful," Viktor admitted.

"I'm flattered," he said halfheartedly. He knew Viktor was only being polite; he probably didn't even notice the outfit considering how busy he was. He had press conferences and gala routines to attend, not make small talk over the outfit of a competitor who missed the podium.

"He's quite amazing. Lots of attention to detail. I especially loved the red on gold. That was all his idea," Phichit complimented.

"Mm," Yuuri hummed in agreement. He wasn't one for compliments, truly he found them a tad irritating. He preferred to be humble about his skills, not like other designers; but Yuuri supposed he wasn't like other designers.

"How about designing something for me?"

Yuuri paused. Had he heard Viktor correctly? Did he actually want Yuuri to design him an outfit? He must be dreaming. He must have drank too much alcohol and was currently passed out in his hotel room. Any second he would wake up in his bed, having imagined the entire scenario.

"Don't you have a designer?" he managed to ask in his daze. Yuuri knew a skater of his caliber must have his own person designer on top of his personal trainer, dietician, stylist, coach, choreographer and just about all the perks that came with being a top athlete.

"Yes but I'm getting quite bored with such plain designs. Yours are much more intricate."

"Oh really?" Yuuri asked, raising an eyebrow. He never thought the day would come when Viktor Nikiforov complimented his designs. It surely must be a dream.

"No need to be humble, Yuuri!” Phichit assured his friend. “They're great!"

Yuuri shot Phichit a glare. He certainly wasn't helping the situation.

"I'm sorry but I'm not sure-"

"So when can I come by your studio?" Viktor asked. "You must have one. I'd like to see all your past work."

"I'm sorry but-"

"Yuuri, at least a show him your studio," Phichit begged. He turned towards Viktor and added "did you knew he has a studio in St. Petersburg?"

Viktor raised an eyebrow, albeit impressed. "You do?"

Yuuri inwardly cursed. He knew living in St. Petersburg would one day prove to be a problem. He had moved his studio to St. Petersburg after his last year of University. Apparently, the Bolshoi Ballet was looking for talented new designers for their upcoming play "Tale of a Sleeping Prince". They had apparently found Yuuri after his senior thesis and requested he design a few outfits for them. He couldn't say no to what was probably the best gig he could ever get.

So he packed up and moved to St. Petersburg without a second thought, trying not to think that Viktor Nikiforov also lived in St. Petersburg.

"Mind if I come by?"

Yuuri paused, trying to process what he asked him. Viktor Nikiforov? _The_ Viktor Nikiforov? In his home? If he wasn't convinced before, he was now certain this was a dream.

"I don't want to be a hassle," he reasoned. He didn't want to bother Viktor with his lackluster designs. Nothing he could create would ever be good enough for Viktor Nikiforov. Besides, he was probably busy with photo shoots or training or whatever he did in his spare time. Being the Four Time World Champion did that to a person.

"It can't be that far from the rink. Besides, I love to see more of your work!"

Yuuri narrowed his eyes. He couldn't tell if Viktor was being serious or somehow poking fun at Yuuri. From his sweet smile and sincere compliments, Yuuri supposed he could at least humor him with his designs before he would eventually decide on a real designer. One that wasn't on the brink of retirement.

"Alright," he agreed reluctantly. "I can show you my studio and we can see how to go from there. Phichit can give you my contact information."

Viktor's eyes lit up. "Great! See you soon!"

_To be continued..._


	2. Haute Couture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all and welcome to chapter 2! 
> 
> I am absolutely amazed by the response to the first chapter! Thank you once again to all your nice words of support! 
> 
> This chapter was super fun to write! I really love looking more into Yuuri's character and his inner monologue. It might be a bit OOC, but that's what AUs are for anyways, right?
> 
> Please follow my tumblr [@jesse-rae-on-ice](http://jesse-rae-on-ice.tumblr.com) or the [#wyhoms](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/wyhoms) tag for more updates!
> 
> So without further ado, please enjoy!

Haute couture (noun): high end fashion that is constructed by hand from start to finish, made from high quality, expensive, often unusual fabric and sewn with extreme attention to detail and finished by the most experienced and capable sewers, often using time-consuming, hand-executed techniques

* * *

Soon turned out to be much sooner than Yuuri expected.

Just one night ago, he had met Viktor at some fancy Gala party and now he was coming into his apartment. It must have been some sort of dream. Yuuri's head was positively spinning.

He had tidied his apartment three times in preparation. Sure, it might have been excessive - just like everything Viktor did - especially since he wasn't a messy person to begin with. But he couldn't have his apartment in mediocre conditions for his clients, right?

Okay, that's not true. He couldn't have his apartment in anything less than pristine condition for Viktor Nikiforov. Just thinking about him sent a spark up Yuuri's spine. Four Time World Champion Viktor Nikiforov would be here, in his apartment, in a few minutes.

It was almost surreal that Yuuri had been given the chance to meet the famous skater in-person, and now he was about to step into his home. He needed it to be no less than flawless for Viktor.

"Already?" Yuuri asked himself when the doorbell rang.

Yuuri absentmindedly dusted some flecks of dirt from his jeans, nervously. He could do this, couldn’t he? After all, he had somehow wooed Viktor before. He could certainly do it again.

He took long strides over to the door, noting how long the walk truly felt. Was his door always this far away from his main room? He could have sworn it was closer. He twisted the knob open, hoping it was anyone else standing outside his apartment.

Yuuri opened the door revealing a very tired Viktor standing in his doorway. Yuuri blinked, hoping that he was just imagining what he was looking at.

Viktor was standing in his apartment.

Scratch that. Viktor Nikiforov, four time world champion, was standing in his apartment. Yuuri could faint on the spot.

"Hi!" Viktor greeted in his usual cheerful way. He offered his signature smiled to Yuuri, one that could surely compare to the brightness of the stars.

He looked as beautiful as he had in his dreams (not to say that Yuuri had dreamed of Viktor all last night). Viktor’s jawline was chiseled into a perfect shape emphasized by just the slightest amount of stubble growing in. Even after a long night, he still managed to look handsome. His short platinum hair was a bit rumpled, but was still styled with side swept bangs that covered his eyes. His blue eyes were glowing, despite the dark circles surrounding them. Yuuri admired the small flecks of gold near his pupil that were often overlooked in magazine shots.

Viktor Nikiforov was perfect - Yuuri would never be convinced that he was anything less than absolutely perfect. It was almost too much for one person.  

And his skating. The way he could create stories, weaving his own tale in just six minutes was simply astounding. Not matter what any tabloid magazine wrote, Viktor certainly deserved every title he has ever won.

"Come in," Yuuri insisted. He stepped aside, making room for Viktor to walk past him as he gestured for Viktor to join him.

He noted that Viktor was wearing a far more casual outfit than Yuuri had ever seen him in - albeit he had only seen him in his Gala tuxedo. In place of his expensive suit jacket was an equally expensive light blue trench coat. It was fashionably cut off above his knees, exposing his tight black trousers. The pants hugged his ample backside quite snugly, showing off the prominent curves of his bottom. Yuuri didn't consider himself a religious man, but he could have sworn to some higher being that Viktor must be heaven sent.  

"Let me grab your coat."

Viktor nodded before casually shrugging off his overcoat. He handed the garment to Yuuri who tried not to gape at the fact that he was holding Viktor's coat.

Instead, he focused on looking over Viktor's shirt. Yuuri expected him to wear some high fashion sweater from the newest spring collection. From what he knew about Viktor - which was more than Yuuri would ever admit - he tended to dress on the expensive side. His photo shoots snapped pictures of the famous skater in elegant, expensive garb. Yuuri was particularly fond of the recent promotional magazine spread of famous skater for the previous skating season. Sure it was supposed to be tacky and cliche - he was sitting on what appeared to be a throne, legs spread, and chest exposed by his unbuttoned shirt - but Yuuri admired it all the same.

However, he didn't seem to wear such expensive shirts at all. Instead, wore a simple white shirt with horizontal blue stripes. It was rather plain compared to what Yuuri was used to Viktor wearing but he still managed to look absolutely stunning.

"Wow!" Viktor praised.

He scanned the entire apartment, his blue eyes looking over every small detail of Yuuri’s home. Yuuri tried not to fidget at the sudden attention.

"It's very...quaint!" Viktor decided on.

Yuuri rolled his eyes at that. He knew it wasn't much to look at, probably not in comparison to a famous athlete's penthouse suite or whatever luxury home he lived in, but it was home.

His apartment had three cramped rooms: a main landing with a kitchen and living room, a master bedroom, and a small studio for working on his designs. He didn't think he needed anything aside from the basic necessities anyways, and probably couldn’t afford anything better.

"I'm sorry it's not up to your expectations," he said as if the comment didn’t bother him.

He walked over to his closet hanging Viktor's trench coat nearly beside the others. The fancy coat seemed out of place compared to his rather extensive collection of hooded sweaters and zip up jackets. In fact, Viktor Nikiforov being in his boring home was out of place to begin with. He was spectacular and deserved much better than to even step foot in such a unworthy apartment. Yuuri decided it wouldn't matter in the end, seeing that Viktor probably wouldn't be coming back. Especially after seeing his lukewarm response to his home.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Viktor admitted.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow, skeptical of Viktor's defense. Of course Viktor meant what he said. His apartment was quaint and lackluster; it was as simple as that. Viktor had no reason to apologize for pointing out the obvious.

He exhaled and nervously carded a hand through his platnium hair. "I meant it in a pleasant way. In a 'this place is super cute and honey' sort of way."

Yuuri rolled his eyes at Viktor's explanation. It was hardly an adequate apology for calling his apartment quaint. Quaint was what one would call a small town in the south of France, not his work environment.

Besides, he knew his ridiculous description wasn't the truth; Viktor had been unimpressed with his apartment. Everything from the dying cactus plant in the corner to the fake wood tiles he had judged. He couldn't really blame him; after all, he was probably used to luxury. Yuuri had only bought this apartment out of necessity and wasn’t exactly the most fond of such an apartment. He may have overstayed his welcome in the city, but he supposed it was beginning to feel like home. Besides, he could get used to Russia if it meant Viktor Nikiforov would meet him in person.

"Of course," Yuuri hummed in agreement.

"So this is where you work?" Viktor asked, quick to change the subject. Yuuri was grateful for that.  

"Yes."

It always seemed to surprise his guests that his home was also his workplace; many people said it was sacrilegious to work in the same place they slept. Something about boundaries or whatever excuse they gave. Yuuri didn’t pay any mind to them.  

He supposed working out of his home was a family trait. His parents owned a hot springs inn that also served as his home and now he had followed their tradition.

"You're not from around here," Viktor pointed out, trying to make small talk.  

"I'm from Japan," Yuuri confessed.

"Ah, Japan is such a lovely country. Why would you leave Japan for here?"

"Work is work,” Yuuri admitted.

He supposed that was partially true. Another part of him wanted to admit that he never wanted to leave Japan. Japan was home, even if he had spent years away from his cozy town. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure he could say Japan was his home anymore at this point.

Instead, he chose to change the subject.

“I can show you what I'm working on now."

"That would be great!"

Yuuri gestured for Viktor to follow him towards his work studio. It was tucked away at the far end of the apartment, passed his kitchen and passed his bedroom. The previous tenant used it as a storage closet but this small room was enough space for all of Yuuri’s work.

"You’ve got a nice layout,” Viktor said courteously.

"It's not much," Yuuri admitted.

He opened the door to his studio, allowing Viktor to walk into his studio. It wasn't the largest of rooms, no more than a few meters on either side. The walls were mostly bare aside from one photo of him and his pet poodle from his childhood. There was one window that provided a bit of natural light, but the view of the city was obstructed by a rather large tree.

For a small room, it was completely filled, cluttered with various fashion related necessities. There were different fabrics lined against the far wall, each rolled up as to not wrinkle the material. Tucked away in the corner was waste basket overflowing with failed concept art, all crumpled into neat balls. Beside was a small working desk with an industrial sewing machine and a stack of filled sketchbooks.

At the center of the room were two mannequins: one a traditionally female body and the other, traditionally male. The female mannequin was completely bare proudly exposing the curves and peaks of the plastic figure. On the male mannequin was one of his newest designs. It was a piece commissioned by an old friend back home and he was simply adding some final touches. The outfit was black and red body suit, covering the entire mannequin. The bottoms consisted of basic black trousers that hugged the mannequin's slender body. The black bottoms faded into a red ombré  that continued just above the nape of the neck. Near the edges of the sleeves and chest were intricate bead work neatly stitched into the threads. It still wasn’t complete seeing as Yuuri still needed to add a black overcoat, but it was one of his best works as of late. He hoped it was enough to convince Viktor that he was worthy of designing an outfit for him.

"Ah, it's beautiful," Viktor praised. He ran his hands over the beading near the chest, admiring how the material felt underneath his palm. Yuuri's brown eyes watched as his hands continued to wander, roaming over the outfit on the mannequin. If he were being honest, it was a bit arousing, almost erotic in the way he touched the design. He tried not to think about those strong hands stroking his body tenderly, rubbing circles in his hips before reaching lower.

"I especially love the red detail," he continued, prompting Yuuri out of his daze. "You really have a knack for designing."

Yuuri fidgeted slightly, nervously pulling at the sleeves of his pullover. He was suddenly very aware of how out of place Viktor was in his apartment. Viktor was stunning and angelic; he didn't belong in such a hovel, and with someone like Yuuri.

When compared to the gorgeous skater, he felt downright plain. He was usually comfortable wearing his oversized sweatshirt with "Detroit" plastered on the front. He mostly chose it to hide his growing potbelly, that Yuuri didn't want to admit was getting to be more round than when he had bought the sweater. But now he began to feel self conscious by his choices. He was supposed to know about fashion, cling to every word from Fashion Week, but all his efforts seemed to go unnoticed when compared to Viktor.

He had even tried to look nice by wearing his one pair of skinny jeans that were far too tight around his hips and thighs. He had spent more hours than he would like admit deliberating his outfit. Should be try to impress Viktor by dressing in his best suit? Or should he dress comfortably to show he wasn't trying too hard to get Viktor's attention? He had even called Phichit three times to ask for fashion advice (and all three times Phichit told him to be himself).

In the end, he decided to combine both a casual yet trendy style, one that said he was trying but not trying too hard. And yet, he still found himself lackluster compared to Viktor. He supposed he could never compare to the beauty that was Viktor Nikiforov. Besides, he was a fashion designer and not a fashion model.  

"Thank you," Yuuri said, blushing slightly.

Viktor's eyes wandered around the studio, one finger pressed to his lips as if he were deep in thought. His cerulean eyes lingered on the mannequin, drinking in the design he had created.

"Well I've decided," he declared. He clapped his hands together before adding "I want you as a designer."

Yuuri gaped, his mouth hanging open. He knew it was rude to gape at someone, but he couldn't help gawk at how irrational he was being.

Choosing a designer often took hours of looking over his portfolio, scrutinizing every one of his designs. His clients would often flip through his sketches, giving critiques about every single design. 'This could have been better', they would say.

But Viktor, as usual, defied his expectations. Viktor, who landed a quadruple flip - a move no other skater could perfect - at his senior debut. Viktor, who was the current Four Time World Champion, Six Time Grand Prix Gold medalist, still winning competitions far past his prime didn’t do that. Viktor, who was currently standing in his design studio, had decided he wanted Yuuri over anyone else.

"You've only seen one outfit," the rational side of his brain justified.

He has a wide portfolio of sketches he was prepared to show Viktor - everything from his work on ‘Tale of a Sleeping Prince’ to some of his early work from university. Most clients were happy to skim through his pages of designs before deciding; some even expected it at this point.

Choosing a designer was an important decision and he couldn't believe that Viktor Nikiforov - of all people - was being so rash about this decision. .It didn't seem logical that Viktor would decide something as critical as his costume designer after seeing one prototype outfit.

Viktor shrugged, not deterred by Yuuri's rather strong reaction to his decision. "Two if you count Phichit's."

"That hardly counts," Yuuri defended. He locked his arms over his chest, just about done with Viktor’s aloof attitude about this entire process. If he couldn’t be bothered to look at more than one prototype, he certainly couldn’t be bothered to have Yuuri as a designer.  

"I think it does."

"How can you decide already? You haven't even seen my sketches. Let me at least show you my sketches." He grabbed his current sketchbook from his desk. He fumbled through the pages, trying to find a few decent designs he could show Viktor.

Viktor shook his head. "That's not necessary. I can already tell."

Yuuri blinked twice. He could hardly see how Viktor could supposedly "tell" that Yuuri was a good designer from only one design. He knew every designer had a specific style, but it was incredibly hard to tell from one unfinished costume. It was like buying a car without testing it-it simply wasn't feasible.

"I'm flattered by your offer but I am very busy with all of my work," Yuuri lied.

If he were being honest, he didn't have that much work recently. Much of his commissions came from the ballet or skaters, and seeing how it was the off-season, his workload was rather light. Expect for a few exhibition costumes, he didn't have much work at all.

"Come on," Viktor said, practically begging at this point. "Just one outfit."

Sure, Yuuri should’ve been grateful, should have jumped on the opportunity to design for Viktor Nikiforov, should have been begging to even be considered. And yet, he couldn't find himself to say yes.

"You can do the free program if that makes you feel better!"

Yuuri shook his head. He knew how ungrateful he was being. Viktor was downright begging for one of his designs and Yuuri was almost unbecoming. If anything, Yuuri should have been begging to design for Viktor. It would be every designer's dream, and yet he was turning his nose up at the offer like Viktor wasn’t worthy of his attention

"I can pay you ask much as you want."

"Money isn't the issue," he admitted.

Yes, he knew it would be nice to have some extra spending money, especially since he wasn't entirely sure when his next commission would be. And he certainly didn't want to be forced to design furry costumes for potential buyers.

No, he would never do that if he could design for Viktor. If he took the commission, he would be financially stable. He knew Viktor had money to spare and would definitely pay him handsomely. But Yuuri didn't particularly care about designing for money.

"Than what is?"

Yuuri chewed on his bottom lip, a habit he had yet to grow out of. He wasn't sure how he could explain his inner conflict. To be honest, he barely understood his reasoning himself.

On one hand, designing for the top skater in the world, for Viktor Nikiforov, was nothing less than a dream come true. He would be famous in the fashion world, become a household name. Okay, maybe not a household name, but he would be famous enough to have requests from other top skaters. He would never have to worry about finding a new client or settling on half-assed commissions.

On the other hand, designing for the world champion only brought unnecessary pressure. What if his design was hideous? What if he couldn't live up to Viktor's expectations? What if he wasn't meant to be a designer after all?

Maybe he wasn't a designer, after all. He was thinking of giving up professional designing all together after Phichit's outfit. He was lacking the inspiration that had when he first started designing. His outfit for Viktor would surely turn out terrible, blacklisting him from the entire skating community and forcing him into an early retirement before he even hit 25.

"I'm just busy," he settled on saying. He supposed it was a decent enough explanation.

"Too busy to design for the Four Time World Champion?" Viktor pouted.

Yuuri had to admit was irresistible with his plump lips quivering, practically begging for Yuuri. Yuuri sighed. He supposed Viktor was right. He couldn't exactly turn down an opportunity to design for such a famous celebrity. How many other times would he be handed an opportunity such as this? Besides, he could always run back to Japan, retiring in his quiet hometown, if everything were to go wrong.

"Alright. I can design your free program outfit but that's it."

"Yuuri!" Viktor exclaimed. Unexpectedly, he pulled Yuuri close to him, tangling his arms around his neck. His strong body was pressed against Yuuri's, holding him in a tight hug.

Yuuri instinctively pulled back, unlocking himself from Viktor's grip. He supposed it was a bit impulsive, a defense mechanism his body had decided without thinking. Yuuri wasn't that fond of physical interactions, but his reaction was a bit unjustified. It was true that Viktor had given no notice before embracing Yuuri, but he didn't need to pull away so quickly. Others could only dream to have Viktor hold him in that way, and Yuuri had just pushed him aside.

He reasoned that it was the professional in him that had pushed Viktor away. He wasn't supposed to have outside interactions with clients, especially clients he had just met the night before at a fancy Gala.

Okay, maybe he just wasn't comfortable with Viktor Nikiforov pressing his body against his own, their lips just inches away from each other. Although, he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the attention Viktor was giving him.

"You're the best!" he said, unfazed by Yuuri's reaction.

Yuuri cleared his throat. "Thank you."

Viktor pulled his phone from his back pocket, checking the time on the lock screen. "I've got to run but I can be back tomorrow. We can talk about outfit designs then!"

"Tomorrow?" Yuuri asked, following Viktor out of his studio. Yuuri didn't think he could handle seeing Viktor again, let alone tomorrow. That would be the third consecutive day he would see with the skater. Surely he had better things to do than make time to come to Yuuri's dingy apartment and discuss boring designs.

"Of course!" Viktor agreed, opening the door to the closet. He easily pulled out his expensive trench coat by the sleeve, not noticing how it pulled on the hanger before giving in to his pull, He immediately shoved one arm through the sleeve followed by the other before shrugging it over his back. It created a few wrinkles in the fabric, which made Yuuri internally cringe. It was probably a well made jacket - and probably worth more than his entire pay check - but Viktor just layered it over his clothes haphazardly. He didn't seem to mind the small imperfections his rather hasty movements created.

He turned around to address Yuuri, his blue eyes practically sparkling. "How else am I going to get to know you?"

"Know me?" Yuuri asked, wondering if he heard Viktor correctly.

"You know," he continued. "Build a designer-client relationship?"

Yuuri blinked twice. A relationship? Clients never tried to have a relationship with Yuuri, even a professional relationship. In fact, no no one that anyone had ever tried to have a relationship with him anyways. So having a relationship with the most famous client he would probably ever design for was utterly ridiculous. Typical clients tried to make the process as quick and painless as possible. Yuuri would meet with them for a short consultation, sketch a few designs, make a prototype, adjust the design, and then receive his pay check.

It was usually an impersonal process, as most occupations were. There wasn't much contact aside from a few appointments and modifications. Sometimes, there were instances when he never even met his client face to face.

And now Viktor Nikiforov, Four Time World Champion wanted a relationship (albeit completely professional and in no way does it imply a romantic relationship) with him. He didn't know what Viktor wanted from their so-called designer-client relationship. He supposed Phichit probably told him how lonely he was, despite the fact that he was very happy to be alone, thank you very much. That must've been why he wanted to see him again tomorrow.

"So does 6PM work? I'd do earlier but my schedule is pretty tight now that I have an exhibition in a month."

Yuuri's head was spinning. Viktor was going to be coming again. And not just coming again, but coming again tomorrow. He had thought today would be the last time he would ever need to stress about seeing the gorgeous figure skater in person. And yet, he had invited himself over tomorrow.

"Sure, 6PM," Yuuri agreed instinctively.

"Great! It's a date!"

Before Yuuri could (albeit politely) remind him that their meetings were certainly not a date, no matter how much Phichit would claim that they could very well be dates, Viktor was already out the door. The door slammed closed, leaving Yuuri alone in his apartment.

Yuuri sighed. He never realized how lonely his studio was.

_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you like this chapter, please leave a review! They really help me have enough courage and support to continue writing! Also, if you have any ideas or fashion advice, feel free to tell me as well!
> 
> For reference, the outfit on the mannequin is in reference to Shoma Uno's free skating outfit for the 2017 season (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/70/16/a7/7016a7102df105fbc347b1b441994156.jpg). It was definitely my favourite outfit of the entire season (and maybe all of figure skating)! 
> 
> Please follow my tumblr [@jesse-rae-on-ice](http://jesse-rae-on-ice.tumblr.com) or the [#wyhoms](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/wyhoms) tag for more updates!
> 
> Until next time!


	3. Au Naturel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my darlings! Welcome to the chapter you've been waiting for! Viktor gets measured and there are some dirty thoughts about him being naked.
> 
> I just want to remind everyone that I know nothing about fashion. Also, I have no beta editor so I apologize for any mistakes!
> 
> Please follow my tumblr [@jesse-rae-on-ice](http://jesse-rae-on-ice.tumblr.com) or the [#wyhoms](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/wyhoms) tag for more updates!
> 
> Enjoy Chapter 3!
> 
> Warnings: some explicit/mature thoughts, adult themes**

Au Naturel (adj): in a natural state, nude.

* * *

 

True to Viktor's words, he was back the next day.

And the day after.

And the day after that.

Yuuri was grateful for his visits. He found it comforting knowing that Viktor would continue to stop by after practice and, truth be told, Yuuri was beginning to become accustomed to Viktor in his studio.

Every evening around six, Viktor would appear in Yuuri's doorway, exhausted from practice. He wouldn't bother with formalities anymore, choosing to dump his nice jacket and work bag on Yuuri's couch. He would follow Yuuri into his studio, promising that he wouldn't bother Yuuri as he worked. True to his words, he would politely sit on the small stool in the studio, his long legs dangling down, not quite reaching the floor. His blue eyes would watch Yuuri intently, admiring how he worked on the costume, sewing on the final touches.

Viktor would try to make small talk, always trying to lighten the mood. As much as Yuuri hated to admit it, he found it endearing. Viktor would often ramble on about the most trivial of topics: his sandwich being too dry, his dog needing a haircut, his phone needing a better front facing camera.

It was all very domestic, as his friend so eloquently reminded him. Yuuri blushed and argued it was merely professional. Who was he to deny Viktor of some company?

Besides, Viktor was paying him for his time - which felt almost wrong until Phichit assured him that Viktor had plenty of money to spend.

"Nice to see you again," Viktor greeting, walking into Yuuri's apartment. He shrugged off his winter jacket and scarf, laying it over the radiator. Yuuri noted that he was dressed extremely casual, not even making an effort to change from his training outfits anymore. He was still donned in his signature Team Russia jacket (the one Yuuri learned was from his first Olympics). He had preferred it to the current blue jacket, claiming that it was from his first gold medal but Yuuri just assumed he was showing it off to impress others. It was a well worn jacket with much of the Team Russia lettering fading slightly. It was white with red details swirling along his broad shoulders as it draped over his chest.

Underneath his jacket was a simple black t-shirt. It had a wide V-neck which showed off the nape of his neck, teasingly showing his porcelain skin. The shirt hung over a pair of grey sweatpants that did little to flatter his defined figure. A shame, really, but Yuuri supposed comfort and function was more crucial than beauty when practicing.

"I finished the costume," Yuuri began, trying to initiate their usual small talk for once.

Viktor raised an eyebrow, impressed. "You have?"

"Not yours, of course. The red one," he clarified. "I shipped it this morning."

"Oh Yuuri! Congratulations!" Viktor praised.

Yuuri was thankful that he didn't pull him into a hug. It wasn't that Yuuri didn't appreciate hugs - hugs were often the best remedy for any situation - but he wasn't sure he could handle such an intimate gesture, especially not before what he was planning on doing today.

“Now you can start on mine!”

Yuuri paused. He was so excited about finishing the costume that he had forgotten that he still needed to start working on Viktor’s. He wouldn’t say it aloud, but he was secretly dreading this day.

"Shall we get started?"

Viktor nodded, following Yuuri into the back studio once more. He flipped on the lights in his studio, illuminating the tiny room with artificial light. He cleared out most of the clutter, making room for his new - and arguable most important - client. His once full studio was now almost sparse. The fabrics that once decorated the walls were removed, now placed in a storage room in the basement of the apartment. The industrial sewing machine was pushed far into the back of the room, leaning against the corner.

In place of the mannequin was a black step stool for taking measurements. The stool faced a a full sized mirror that still had a few streaks from when Yuuri tried to clean the dust off. The only sign that anyone had occupied the room was the childhood picture of Yuuri with his dog. Sure it wasn't what Yuuri was used to for his studio, but that would have to change if he were to continue his work with Viktor Nikiforov.

"Strip down so I can take your measurements," Yuuri said without hesitation.

Viktor smirked, a bit too entertained by Yuuri's choice of words. "Usually people take me out on a few dates before they ask me to strip."

Yuuri blushed, covering his face with his hands in hopes Viktor couldn't see how absolutely embarrassed he was. He didn't mean to say something so crass; it was how he addressed all of his models when taking measurements. Leave it to Viktor to be unprofessional about that.

"I-I...it's only for measurements," Yuuri defended with a huff.

Viktor chuckled, amused by Yuuri's embarrassment.

"Of course," he agreed.

"You can go to the bathroom or I can turn around..." Yuuri mumbled.

Wrapped up in his embarrassment over such a phrase, he had momentarily forgotten that he would be seeing Viktor Nikiforov undress.

Scratch that, Yuuri had almost forgotten that he would be seeing Viktor Nikiforov without clothes.

Sure, he had dreamed about seeing Viktor Nikiforov undress for him. He would be lying if he said he never stayed awake at night, imaging Viktor stripping down for him before joining him in bed. But that was much different than the real thing.  

"It's fine. I've got nothing to hide," Viktor said, grinning innocently.

Viktor grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt, expertly pulling the garment over his head. Yuuri wondered how many times he had done that for a partner to be so experienced. Viktor continued with his pants, pulling them down by the hem. The motion in itself was extremely arousing and if Yuuri had not been so dazed, he surely would have been completely aroused by such a gesture. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to witness Viktor practically strip for him, even if it was for professional reasons. He couldn't only wonder how good he was when stripping for other reasons.  

"Is this good?" Viktor asked, breaking Yuuri from his trance.

Yuuri blinked twice, drinking in Viktor's naked form. He had to remind himself - twice - that yes, Viktor was still human. He was absolutely breathtaking. His body was thin but with just the right hint of muscles defining his chest, arms, and stomach. His hips were rather wide for a male but formed a perfect v shape that Yuuri could only dream of achieving. He had a small trail of wispy hair leading down to his lower body.

Yuuri shook his head, noticing the source of his embarrassment.

"Why aren't you wearing undergarments?"

"You asked me to strip," Viktor defended.

"But not all the way!" he protested. He adverted his eyes from Viktor's lower half, desperate to look at something else. He focused on the lamp hanging above him, trying not to stare at Viktor's body. He knew it was unprofessional to be embarrassed by a natural body part. He usually wasn't so affected by someone's naked form. But Yuuri couldn't help but flush an unhealthy red color when seeing Viktor's lower half. He was suddenly very aware of how warm it was in his studio.

"You don't need to be...that naked!"

"What?" Viktor asked innocently.

Viktor wiggled his hips seductively, trying to show off his ample bottom. He certainly wasn’t shy about his good looks.

"Are you not enjoying the view?" He smirked, definitely enjoying how embarrassed Yuuri was with the entire situation.

Yuuri would be lying if he said he wasn't admiring his looks. Viktor was rather well endowed, to be honest. It was just as he pictured, rather lengthy but lacking in girth. He wondered what it would felt like when his hands expertly pumped his erection, leaking with pre-cum, slightly erect with arousal.

He shook those thoughts from his mind. He couldn't have one of his clients know that he was appreciating his rather generous genitals, even if Viktor was flaunting it rather erotically. Yuuri would never forgive himself if that was how he lost his credibility as a designer.

"J-just put your underwear on so I can measure you," Yuuri muttered breathlessly. He would definitely need to douse himself in cold water after this.

"Alright."

Viktor took his Calvin Klein boxer briefs from the floor and pulled them over his effeminate hips. Yuuri would be lying if he didn't say he was a bit disappointed that he had to cover up Viktor's natural beauty. Although, he wasn't sure he could look at - let alone touch - Viktor when he was that naked.

"Let me go grab the tape," Yuuri sputtered.

He immediately went over to the desk, trying to fixate his mind over finding the tape instead of touching Viktor's body. Yuuri could be professional about this, even if Viktor wasn't.

"Just stand on the stool so I can get a better look."

Viktor nodded. He climbed onto black the foot stool, watching himself stand tall in the full length mirror. His eyes glared at the mirror, pinching his sides as he continued to look.

"You're surprisingly fit," Yuuri noted, his eyes admiring in his partially naked body. His figure was practically perfect. His legs were long with definition especially around the calfs and thighs. He had just the right amount of padding on his bottom, his cheeks forming rounded globes. He had strong definition on his torso, leaving Yuuri breathless from just staring.   

Yuuri noted that he didn't seem to have many stretch marks. No, he definitely did not have stretch marks. And he surely didn't have as many stretch marks as Yuuri had (although he constantly asked if anyone had as many stretch marks as he he had).

But Yuuri appreciated that Viktor's body wasn't all perfect. Peppering the milky skin were small red scars. Most of them were recent and barely noticeable, just little red splotches that cut intricate patterns into his porcelain skin. Others were almost healed, just ghosts of a much larger bruise, yellowing as it faded. There was one large blue mark on the left side of his torso that didn't appear to be going away any time soon. He supposed all of these scars came from his intense training, little reminders of his dedication and hard work. And Viktor seemed to wear them with pride, as some sort of badge of honor. He didn't seem at all offended by his body. Yuuri only wished he could be that confident with his own imperfections.

"You sound surprised," Viktor pointed out.

He admired himself in the full length mirror, wagging his hips from side to side. Yuuri found the gesture endearing.

"I am an athlete after all."

"I'm not surprised," Yuuri defended with a huff.

He shouldn't have been surprised in the slightest. He had seen Viktor shirtless before in countless promotional work. Not to mention the copious amount of artwork there was of Viktor's naked body that infested the Internet. No, he knew Viktor must be beautiful underneath all the glitz and glam. He just simply didn't realize how beautiful it would be to see up close.

"It's just that you have the structure of a model, not a typical athlete. You're pretty thin and not too muscular," he mused. "Are you sure you don't model?"

"Not professionally," Viktor confessed with a shrug.

A shame, Yuuri noted. Viktor would make a wonderful model. He had all the charisma and an angelic body to match. It was almost surprising to hear that he hadn't been offered any major modelling gigs. He knew he would personally buy every magazine Viktor would be featured in.

"Never had the time,” Viktor continued. “I mean, I do some promos for sponsors but nothing serious. I don't really care about the fame or being a model, if I'm being honest."

Yuuri smiled at this. It was refreshing to hear he didn't care too much about the fame. From the posters and magazine spreads, one would think otherwise. His abundant sponsor photos and promotional material (photos of which Yuuri would ever admit was still hanging in his childhood room) often featured him as a charismatic playboy, one that surely let the fame go to his head.

Yuuri had never thought about how wrong those snapshots were. Most athletes would have craved such attention. The fame and the fortune that came with being in the spotlight for so long. It was what every child dreamed of: being the center of attention with the world practically grovelling at his feet.

And yet, Viktor could care less about the fame that came with being a professional ice skater. He just wanted to skate and go home, not be bogged down with rumors of his latest fling. No, he just wanted to be human.

"Very well," Yuuri agreed.

Yuuri pulled out the tape measure, feeling the yellow tape bend slightly under his touch. He gently placed the tape on Viktor's neck, trying not to think about how he was touching Viktor Nikiforov's body.

"Hey!" Viktor yelped, stumbling backwards slightly.

Yuuri furrowed his eyebrows, a bit confused by Viktor's reaction. "What's wrong?"

It has been a simple touch and Yuuri had already, somehow, messed up. He knew he should quit now while he was ahead, before he could make anymore mistakes.

"I just...I didn't get a warning," Viktor mumbled. He adverted his eyes to the ground, not wanting to meet Yuuri’s concerned look.

Yuuri stood dumbfounded. He had never had such a reaction to measuring someone. Usually models would squirm a little bit and fidget in their spots. The more experienced models would stand with poise, waiting patiently for Yuuri to finish measuring. He supposed Viktor wasn't an experienced model, after all, and he shouldn't consider him as such.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I'm used to people with more experience with this stuff," Yuuri confessed.  

True to his words, Yuuri usually worked with professional models, or at least people who had modelled once before. They were comfortable with Yuuri's motions, easy to accept his roaming hands. He supposed he could make Viktor feel comfortable as well.

He pulled out the tape, holding it out for Viktor to see. It was a trick he had learned when he was in university. It was supposed to calm inexperienced models and show that he was someone they could trust.

"I'm going to place the tape measure on your neck," he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Alright," Viktor said. His voice was still shaky, as if he still didn't trust Yuuri.

Yuuri wrapped the tape around Viktor's collarbone, lightly grazing the skin. He appreciated that he didn’t move away when his hands touched his body. He still recoiled, his body almost rejecting his advances.

Yuuri had to admit that it was almost serene seeing Viktor's body up close. The harsh studio lights reflecting did little to make anyone look attractive, but Viktor still managed to glow.

Yuuri moved the tape lower, his hands brushing over his chest. Viktor squirmed under his touch, obviously uncomfortable with how close he was to his nipples.

"Watch it!" Viktor yelped.

“Sorry!” Yuuri squeaked.

“It’s okay...” Viktor admitted.

"For someone who was so confident before..." he mused, finding some humour in the situation. Viktor had been quick to make sexual comments, smirking about Yuuri’s phrasing. But when it came down to it, Viktor seemed terribly inexperienced with such intimate touching.

He supposed that it was embarrassing after all, no matter how much experience was had. And for Viktor, modelling was something new, after all. He didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable, or more uncomfortable than it already was.

"Well your hands are cold and you're so close to my chest," Viktor defended.

Yuuri chuckled at his reaction. It was almost endearing to see him pout like a young child. He hadn't seen someone react so immaturely since he took measurements in university.

He pursued out his bottom lip. "Plus it tickles."

"Just stay still," he chided.

He knew it was hard for inexperienced models, especially with how intimate the process was, but Viktor surely had been measured before. He must have known this was going to happen eventually.

"I need it to be accurate."

Viktor huffed. "Talk to me then. Distract me"

Yuuri blinked twice. Distract him? He didn't even know where to begin.

"So what piece are you skating to?" Yuuri asked, trying to distract him from his touches. He hoped his small talk about figure skating would be enough to distract Viktor from his prying hands. As much as he positively enjoyed looking at Viktor's almost naked form from such a close view, he knew how awkward it must be. Viktor was all but naked in some stranger's home, getting touched in an intimidate manner must be daunting.

Viktor shook his head, strands of his platinum hair falling into his face. "Unfortunately, my music is confidential. I can't tell you cause I can't risk having it stolen."

Yuuri raised an eyebrow at this. Did Viktor actually think he was going to steal his music? He knew it was probably protocol, but Phichit was never afraid to remind Yuuri that he was skating to 'The Prince and the Skater', much to his annoyance. He probably heard that song one thousand times - no exaggeration - in his dorm room. He supposed the formality must come with being such a famous skater.

Viktor sighed. "I know I can trust you, but my coach would kill me if he knew. It's a legal thing, you must understand."

"Very well," Yuuri hummed.

He supposed he could agree with that logic. It wasn't unheard of for athletes to keep their performances a secret, especially if it could hinder the current champion. He knew it would be much harder for him to design without the music, but he could make some sacrifices.

"Can you at least describe your piece? It'll help me make your costume," Yuuri asked.

He moved the tape around his middle, memorizing the measurements. 79.2cm. Viktor seemed thinner than he had imagined. Yuuri instinctively sucked in his stomach, hoping Viktor didn't notice how much weight spilled above the hem of his pants.

"Well it's about love," he began to explain.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. Love? He almost scoffed at the idea of the Four Time World Champion and supposed Eligible Bachelor would be skating to love.

Love was taboo; a theme novice skaters overused when they weren't clever enough to imagine something else. Viktor, on the other hand, was never one to be that, well, boring. He prided himself on always surprising the audience, creating unique themes about ignorance or freedom or doubt.

Not love, though. Never love.

"I know it's cliche but I've never done a piece about love so might as well do it for my last season."

Yuuri paused, his hand faltering slightly.

Did Viktor just say this was his last season? He knew he was rumored to be leaving after this season - he was twenty six after all - but Yuuri didn't want to believe it. It was inevitable but Yuuri couldn't imagine a season without Viktor skating.

"So yeah," Viktor continued, breaking Yuuri from his thoughts. "It's mostly a longing love. Like a love that you know you want but you're not really sure what it is yet."

Viktor looked at himself in the mirror, watching Yuuri dutifully take measurements.

Viktor flashed him an apologetic smile. "Sorry that it's so vague."

"No problem," Yuuri hummed. "Now we're almost done but I have to measure your um...crotch region."

Viktor raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I need your inner seam. It's going to be awkward but I'll make it as quick as possible," Yuuri assured him.

He knew it was embarrassing enough to stand naked in someone else's home, being touched so intimately. And now he would be just centimeters away from his penis. Viktor was probably mortified.

He couldn't count how many times a model had an erection while he was measuring. He supposed he couldn't blame them, seeing as it was an intimidate process after all.

"Can't you just take my word that I'm 15 centimeters?"

Yuuri sputtered, at a loss for words. That was more information than he needed right now.

"Sorry, I believe you but I still have to measure it," Yuuri said smoothly. He would not be affected by Viktor's comment about his length.

He professionally kneeled in front of the stool, getting a better view of Viktor's lower half.

"Very well," Viktor agreed reluctantly.

Yuuri placed the tape at the inner seam of his leg, trying to ignore how close his face was to Viktor's genitals. He moved his hand lower down, accidentally brushing against his length.

"You know, I usually take people out before they get this intimate. If I knew you were going to give me a hand job, I would've taken you for coffee."

"No need to be so crass," Yuuri lectured. He couldn't believe Viktor could freely say such crude comments. It was bad enough that he was so close to his genitals, but the immature have definitely were not helping the situation.

"Just saying is all. I'm usually classier than this. Don’t want you getting the wrong idea about me."

Yuuri flushed at that comment, quickly memorizing the measurements.

"Alright, that should be enough for now. You can put on your clothes."

"What if I don't want to?" Viktor asked. He winked at Yuuri, trying to be seductive.

Yuuri rolled his eyes. He couldn't tell if Viktor was flirting or this was just his personality. He knew Europeans were much more forward with their emotions so he attributed Viktor's odd behavior to that. He supposed that must've been the reason since there was absolutely no possible way he was flirting with him.

"Then you'll freeze to death in this weather," he lectured. Although, he wouldn't be opposed to seeing Viktor naked for a bit longer.

He smirked. "I'm Russian, I'll live."

"Just put on your clothes," Yuuri chastised.

Viktor chuckled. He grabbed his pants, pulling them over his boxers. It was a shame to see his body covered once again. He definitely wouldn't forget how beautiful he truly was.

"So when will my costume be done?" Viktor asked.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. Had Viktor actually expected his outfit to be done? He knew Viktor was impatient but surely he knew how long of a process this took. Not to mention that Yuuri had no direction for the outfit yet.

"Mm now that I have your measurements maybe a month or more."

Yuuri scrubbed the measurements on a note pad. He wouldn't want to forget any of the numbers and have to redo the process. No, he didn't think he had the courage to see Viktor half naked once more. Not without some alcohol in his system.

"It's hard to say for sure," Yuuri mused.

It was hard to set a concrete deadline for creating costumes. Sometimes he could finish a design within five days. Other times, it could take weeks before he even has an idea of what to create. And without the source material, Yuuri supposed it would take even longer to complete.

"And you said your theme was love?" Yuuri asked. He jotted down a few more comments in the margin, circling the word love twice.

"I guess. It's not like traditional romantic love. It's a longing, lonely love."

He combed a hand through his hair, nervously pulling out a few strands. He had complained about how his hair was thinning and Yuuri supposed this could be why.

"I guess it's hard to grasp without the music, huh?"

"You can say that again," Yuuri added dryly.

He didn't mean to sound crass, not really. He supposed he was just frustrated. It would just be so much more difficult to capture the true essence of the routine without the source material.

"How about for all your trouble, I can take you out for coffee?"

Yuuri blinked twice. If Yuuri wasn't sure if he was flirting or not, he was definitely sure now. Nobody asked another out for coffee without subtly asking for a date too. And after their rather intimate day, Yuuri would say he was definitely asking him on a date. He wondered if Phichit had anything to do with this.

"That would hardly be appropriate. You're my employer," Yuuri said rationally.

Besides, Viktor surely didn't want to take someone like Yuuri out for coffee. He knew that it Viktor spent one date with him, he'd realize how absolutely boring he was. Yuuri was nothing special, especially not special enough to go out with Four Time World Champion Viktor Nikiforov.

"I'm commissioning you, not employing you," he noted. "Two different things."

"I hardly see a difference," Yuuri muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.  

"Well we've spent days together here. I hardly see how that's different."

Yuuri opened his mouth to protest but no words came out. Viktor was right. What was so different about going out for coffee? They had spent hours in his small studio, talking about nothing until it was past midnight.

Maybe it was the principle of the thing. He had learned in his fashion ethics class that it was looked down upon to have personal, informal relations with his clients. He knew it would be unprofessional to accept Viktor's offer, no matter how attractive and wonderful (and how many years he had dreamed about this moment) he was.

"How about I take you to one of my practices?" Viktor suggested. "It can help you get inspired."

"Maybe some other time," Yuuri said hoping it would placate the skater. He really shouldn’t be distracted by Viktor, not if he was going to design the perfect outfit.

Yuuri looked out the window, noting how late it truly was. The sky was beginning to turn into a dusty rose, fading into a purple twilight. The street lamps were beginning to turn on, illuminating the street with a warm glow.

"Besides, it's late," he admitted.

He wasn't trying to push Viktor away but Viktor must have better things to do than to spend his evenings with Yuuri.

"You should get some rest and I should start designing."

"Very well. But one day you will come to my practice, yes?"

"One day," Yuuri lied.

"I'll be waiting," Viktor said with a wink.

  _To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! This is the first time I've ever written anything sexual, in any way. There probably won't be more of it, unless you all want that.
> 
> For anyone wondering, Viktor's reactions may or may not be because he's a virgin. And that scar on his side may or may not be from skating. For you to decide ;)
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and kudos! I appreciate every single one of your kind words! Truly, you are all too kind to me!
> 
> Unfortunately, it's finals season so I probably won't update until May. I apologize but school does come first! If you would like updates, please follow my tumblr [@jesse-rae-on-ice](http://jesse-rae-on-ice.tumblr.com) or the [#wyhoms](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/wyhoms) tag to know when a new chapter is coming! In the mean time, feel free to check out my other YOI fics!
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! I have most of the story planned so updates should roll out quickly. Also, I know absolutely nothing about fashion so any pointers would be great!
> 
> If you like this story and want to see more, please considering leaving a comment/kudos! They make me really happy! Also, feel free to check out my other YOI fics!
> 
> Please follow my tumblr [@jesse-rae-on-ice](http://jesse-rae-on-ice.tumblr.com) or the [#wyhoms](https://www.tumblr.com/tagged/wyhoms) tag for more updates!
> 
> Have a lovely day!


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